Filled Potential

She’s my lawyer. I’m on thin ice. Nothing can happen between us.

Except…it already did.

I moved home looking to rebuild my hockey career and my brother’s connections laced up my transfer to the Pittsburgh Fury.

How do I decide to celebrate? I hit the club and pick up the first hot woman I can find.

She wanted a night of wild passion--no names, just heat.

So I roll into my agent meeting on Monday to sign papers with the new lawyers and there she is. Working at my brother’s firm.

She says she’ll get disbarred if we don’t keep things professional. But Juniper is my dream woman. Smart, athletic, fierce…I’d spend eternity in the sin bin for her.

We just can’t get caught.

This fling-to-forever hockey romance sparks so hot it will melt the ice.

JUNIPER

We walk upstairs and I'm introduced to the executive assistant, Donna. Ben tells me she is the one who really steers the ship. He whispers, "Donna knows everything about everything that happens here. Tim is totally fucked without her." Noted: suck up to Donna, I think as I shake her hand and give her my best smile.

"Juniper, you let me know if you need help with anything while you're getting settled," she says, squeezing my arm. I like her. I can tell her offer is genuine. 

We walk into the corner office, a huge space with two walls of windows and a massive desk. Seated behind it is Tim Stag, looking impeccable and handsome in a tailored suit. He smiles to greet us, but I notice his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. There's something familiar about him, but I can't place it. I decide I must just be recognizing him from my video chat interview. "Juniper Jones," he says, pumping my hand. "We meet at last. I hope Ben was filling you in about Stag Law?" 

"I only told her the bad stuff," Ben jokes. Ugh. Male posturing. 

We all laugh and, at a nod from Tim, Ben ducks off to his own office.

Tim goes through his whole spiel again, even asking me about rowing because he seems really interested in this athletic perspective I bring to his team. "I've never had someone negotiate for time off versus increased salary," he says, and I smile.

"I take rowing as seriously as I take my work, Mr. Stag. I'm fast and efficient at both, but I need a lot of Fridays off to travel to competitive regattas."

"As you know, most of our clients are professional athletes," he says, and I nod. "One reason I was eager to hire someone with a team-sport background is because I need my employees to understand our clients, but not get starstruck. You're going to be brushing shoulders with a lot of famous men, Ms. Jones. I take it you can keep your wits about you?"

This makes me laugh, since I don't really follow sports much outside of rowing. I practically grew up on the water. My dad was an Olympic rower and coached my team in high school. There was no room at the Jones household for drooling over football stars. "I promise to treat our clients like I would anyone else with a strict training regimen," I say. "I'd rather ask them about their anaerobic workouts than their prowess on the field."

Tim seems really pleased with this information and leans to grab a file. "Come on," he says, "Let me show you to your office and tell you about your first client." He walks me into an office a few doors down from his own. We're on the top two floors of one of the skyscrapers downtown, and from my window I have a great view of the confluence of the rivers. I feel a warm sense of anticipation, looking forward to mornings spent out there, days spent in here.

I run my fingers along the polished wood desk. A brand new laptop and extra monitor are angled away from the glare of the window. I vaguely pay attention as Tim tells me someone from IT will be in to get me set up with email and the company wifi.

I hang my bag on a hook and look at him, expectantly.

"May I sit, Juniper? Should I call you Juniper? We mostly do first names here, including clients, but stick with formal titles when pro executives are in…"

"Please sit," I say, sinking into my own leather desk chair, "And absolutely, call me Juniper." I adjust the levers on the side of the seat to accommodate my height and find that it hugs my body perfectly. I'm going to really love it here.

“I’m assigning you to my brother Ty, who plays for the Pittsburgh Fury as of this weekend,” he says, and I feel my jaw drop. 

“Your brother will be my first client? Tim, are you sure that—”

He cuts me off. "I want to review the details of my brother's contract negotiations before he comes in to meet you in a bit. I would ordinarily handle this sort of case myself, but it's a conflict of interest. Him being my brother and all." I nod, and Tim tells me about Ty's transfer from Vancouver. The only thing unusual about the contract is that the Pittsburgh team, the Fury, are in the Stanley Cup playoffs and Ty will immediately begin practices. We still need to work out the details of his playoff bonus.

"This seems relatively straightforward," I say to my boss, and I furrow my brow, still trying to place why he seems so familiar to me. “What’s with the emphasis on morality and sportsmanship?” Tim coughs.

His face shifts, as he explains that his brother is a hothead who gets himself in trouble for fighting on the ice, and partying off the ice. Great, I think. A cocky, impulsive asshole. Apparently this guy was on timeout in the minor leagues for a while and is getting his shot at redemption because a Fury player tore his ACL right before playoffs.

Tim's phone beeps several times and he stands. "I'll leave you to look it over, and I'll meet you in the conference room in an hour. Ty will be there along with his agent to look over paperwork." I nod as he backs out of the office, taking a call.

When I make my way to the conference room, I feel totally familiar with Tyrion Stag's Pittsburgh Fury contract. Shoulders back, confident, I push open the door ready to impress, and I freeze in my tracks. The blood drains from my face and I have to clutch the doorknob to steady myself. Sitting at the table with my new boss is him. The man from the nightclub. The guy I fucked last weekend is my client, and, worse, my boss's brother.